


Kintsugi

by libradusk



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters: Sun & Moon | Pokemon Sun & Moon Versions
Genre: Ficlet Collection, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Implied Sexual Content, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Please bear with me I really don't know how to tag this, Reader-Insert, Romance, Some angst, eventually, lots of reader n grimsley trying their best to support each other thru some shitty times
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-04
Updated: 2017-03-26
Packaged: 2018-09-28 04:26:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10071398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/libradusk/pseuds/libradusk
Summary: "Kintsugi (or kintsukuroi) is a Japanese method for repairing broken ceramics with a special lacquer mixed with gold, silver, or platinum. The philosophy behind the technique is to recognise the history of the object and to visibly incorporate the repair into the new piece instead of disguising it."You met each other at your lowest, but its easier to work your way through it when you have someone you trust.A collection of stories detailing the interactions and relationship between the reader and Grimsley. Some are from the past, others from the present. Most, if any, will not be chronological order.





	1. Untimely Meetings

**_“Life is really simple, but we insist on making it complicated.”_**

Someone had said that to you that a while ago now, and though you’d initially dismissed it as another pretentious rambling from a self-declared intellectual, the sentiment had arisen yet again amidst a wash of panic that had stained your life as of late. Deep down, you knew it was still the same load of bull you’d declared it to be upon first hearing it, but the desperate need for reassurance that shadowed your anxieties had caused you to cling to whatever slither of wisdom made you feel a little more optimistic about your current situation. 

Moving to Alola was meant to have been your big break from your mundane, suffocating life back home. But it seemed as quickly as your feet had touched the sun-baked docks of Ula Ula, your life had decided to push you down a path different to what you wanted yet again. It wasn’t long until you had felt yourself drowning once more. 

Instead of providing you with the breathing space you needed to focus on what you really wanted to achieve, all you’d managed to do during your time in the tropical country was get a job waiting tables at the Sushi High Roller in Malie City. At first you’d rejoiced at the opportunity for some much needed monetary relief the job seemed to promise, yet despite the grandeur and reputation the establishment possessed, the job paid hardly enough to cover the rent of the shoddy motel you were living in on the outskirts of surrounding area. As the days had passed by with little signs of improvement, it had gradually become harder for you to scrape through each month, and each day you’d catch yourself sneering more at each plate of expensive seafood you carried out to your wealthy clientele. 

As your savings dwindled more and more: be it a sudden spike in rent or the incident where you managed to drop your mobile in Malie Garden’s lake on your lunch break, your mental and physical health had begun to deteriorate in turn. Thoughts of abandoning your quest for independence were becoming increasingly frequent and for a long while you considered moving back in with your family, just for the sake of stability if nothing else.

It was during this bout of despondency that you had stumbled into his presence.

A particularly sleepless night had found you trudging towards the edge of Route 15: a familiar destination of yours during your sleep-deprived wanderings. You hadn’t noticed him properly at first, being used to spending your midnight walks alone and initially having pinned his presence as being a mere trick of your insomnia. His pale form had appeared to melt into the beach’s moonlit white sands, it had only been the sharpness of his blue glare and the twinkle of the coin rippling through his fingers that had finally given him away.

You’d jumped, quite audibly in fact, as if he had been a spectre, or some other malicious entity out for your blood. He’d certainly looked the part after all, with his ghostly complexion and shadowed eyes. Even his voice cut through the stillness of the night with a cautionary sharpness as he spoke out to you.

“Good evening.”

Yet looking back, beneath his icy pleasantries, there had been a slither of knowing warmth in the small smirk he’d flashed at you.

Almost as if he’d known from the very beginning.


	2. First(s)

**“He says**  
_**I am sorry I am not an easy person to want**_  
**I look at him surprised**  
_**Who said I wanted easy”  
_**-**_**_ ** **Rupi Kaur****

 

You were the first person who ever really mattered to him. In almost everything he knew and did, you became the first person on the receiving end of it.

It had honestly shocked you, for when you’d first come to know Grimsley, the man had always emanated the air of an experienced veteran in practically everything he’d done. Yet as your relationship developed, you quickly discovered he lacked the effortless skill of handling his heart when it didn’t involve the one hidden away amongst his deck of cards.

He’d treated you with the same polite aloofness he exhibited to everyone at first, beginning when you had first run into him on that restless, lonely night on the beach. That same detached friendliness had lingered for several of your evening run-ins that followed. You’d paid little attention to it at first, having been grateful to just have another sleep-deprived soul linger around long enough for you to pass the bouts of your insomnia with.

But as the initial barriers began to break down and your relationship grew, you had finally felt like you’d managed to form a meaningful friendship with another person on the island. Your evening rendezvous had become something else to look forward to besides your monthly pay coming in to cover your lodgings. He was eccentric and witty – utterly curious in the most interesting and charming ways possible.

You also found however, that he was an incredibly troubled individual with dangerous habits that had resulted in the loss of most part of his once esteemed career and reputation.

When he had first confided in you with the extent of his problems, a gesture of genuine trust that had taken a long time to mature, your heart had both swollen with pride and broken at once.

When you finally realised you’d developed a romantic interest in him, you panicked and had tried your hardest to suppress them. Not purely out of the fear of the man not reciprocating your feelings - but because of the anxiety that you’d make him worse in some way or another.

When Grimsley began to reek of detachment once more, you’d begun to fear the worst.

Had he grown sick of your presence? Or had he figured out your feelings and was searching for a way to let you down softly? The possibilities had made you feel sick to your stomach each time your eyes had met with his.

It was a little while longer before you realised it wasn’t your fault.

Well, not _entirely **your**_ fault. Emotions are indeed fickle, difficult things, and if Grimsley’s troubles had been enough to grey his hair so prematurely, it was safe to say they had fucked with his ability to form close relationships at some point along the line too.

At least, that’s what he’d probably have said to you if you’d pried any further at the time, all the while chuckling behind the pale skin of his knuckles.

_Probably._

Yeah, probably.

But in fact, after everything that had happened, you were the first person he’d ever found himself wanting to _try for_ \- even if it frightened him a little, and weeks later, as the two of you had lain flushed and spent against each other atop the worn double bed in your motel room, he had admitted this to you.

And in that moment of vulnerability, you’d cried at the sincerity of his words. But for the first time in a painfully long while, they were happy tears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapter uploaded mere hours after each other, no likely chance of this happening again let me tell ya.
> 
> Can you believe it only took two chapters for the implied sexual content to become a reality in writing (spoilers: I'm gross so no)
> 
> Writing stories that are almost akin to a set of memoirs is a new approach to me, hopefully it's been ok so far <3
> 
> Pls be kind to virgin Grims. Poor guy


	3. Habitual

_**“I love sleep. My life has the tendency to fall apart when I'm awake, you know?”** _

**― Ernest Hemingway**

Waking up next to Grimsley had been a surprisingly daunting experience when the two of you had first gotten serious. Regardless of what state he’d gone to bed in the night before, you would always awaken to see him lying flat on his back – hands clasped atop his chest in a pose that would be more befitting of a corpse. His breathing was always steady, almost eerily silent as it slipped past barely parted lips. The experience had frightened you a little at first. How he could transition from being warmly wrapped around your body to lying stiff and solitary was beyond you, and there was little chance of you willingly staying up all night to catalogue his odd, subconscious behaviour whilst he slept on. After all, you’d had more than your fair share of sleepless nights in the months before your relationship with the unique fellow had begun.

When you’d first asked him, Grimsley had guessed his weird habit was a result of him sleeping alone his entire life before meeting you. You’d shrugged off his explanation, the smallest glimmer of pride resonating within you upon hearing his offhand confession.

Besides, you’d come to appreciate the way his sleeping posture allowed you a full view of his starkly peaceful expression. Yet even though the morning sunlight kissed the contours of his pale face so flatteringly, looking over his sleeping form was a bittersweet experience.

For it was when it became most obvious as to how vulnerable he truly was. The hardships he'd suffered remained stitched deeply into his face no matter how much sleep he got.

But these days, when he’d begin to stir and peek at you with such genuine adoration from beneath those dark lashes, hands unfolding to sleepily trace your features - you knew things were beginning to change for the better for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vampire boy is a freaky sleeper.
> 
> I was originally going to make this more angsty but I felt mean so I added the last line to soften it a little.


	4. Pulse

Grimsley had the most sensitive neck you had ever known. Though not only did he react in abundance to any touch to his throat, but also the surrounding flesh of his collarbones. The depth of his sensitivity even extended to his shoulders and the base of his spine. All it took was a calculated brush, kiss or nibble to his weak spots, and he’d shiver deliciously, melting into the mercy of your hands and mouth whether the situation you found yourselves in was deemed appropriate or not – much to his own frustration.

He often seemed to attempt to return the favour, consciously or not. He’d often pepper kisses across the dip in your shoulders, or press his lips chastely press of his lips just beneath your ear or against your pulse. His captivation was so transparent he might as well have whispered his barely concealed secret in your ear when you’d first met. It certainly would have saved you a lot of time mulling over what his possible kinks and interests would be when you’d first gotten serious.

You often teased that his infatuation with scarves derived from a desire to protect himself from constant overstimulation – he would always scoff at your remarks, then saunter away with a thinly veiled smirk forced on his face. You knew it was always the same front he put up to save face, the creeping flush that would bloom across the back of his neck and ears always gave him away.

Aside from his eyes and the deep puce circles beneath them, the flush was often the only colour that marked his form these days.

Well, _that is_ if you glossed over the various love-bites you occasionally painted his flesh with.

But it was more than a purely fetishistic obsession when it came to Grimsley. You found that sometimes when you held him, especially on the more difficult nights where his turmoil suffocated his ability to sleep, the man’s face would instantly press against your neck. His breath would tickle your skin as he inhaled your familiar scent, the pulse that drummed against his lips soothing him more than the soft caress of your fingertips against his scalp and back ever could. On the occasion when you were able to crane yourself to look at him, his eyes would never open to meet your own, and he almost appeared drunk off the feeling of the delicate flesh pressed against his clammy face. It reminded you of the way a young child would cling to his mother’s waist to seek security and comfort

Though all this was merely speculation -he never explained why he did this, and you knew better than to push him to answer. You were just glad to be able to comfort, and please him whatever way you could, and he always would try to return the sentiment in his own, unique way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear this was meant to be more sensual and romantic than sexual but I guess I can’t hide what a filthy animal I am, I'm sorry. I actually added the ending later after drafting a writing the first part fully, just to try and balance out the cheeky bits.
> 
> I'm in the middle of a little dry spell with ideas atm, so forgive me if this doesn't get updated for a while longer than usual (which fluctuates with me because I'm AWFUL at consistency sorry)
> 
> On a positive note, thank you for all the kudos and lovely feedback I've received so far! You have no idea how much it means to me, as a writer and as a person who unfortunately, loses faith in my own abilities a lot more than I would like. Thank you so much, you're all the best <3

**Author's Note:**

> Important to mention the first quote is attributed to Confucius. Also if you're going through any similar situations to what is explored in this story, with the risk as mistakenly coming off as impersonal; I'm sorry and I really hope things improve for you soon. Please try to be kind to yourself and surround yourself with people and things that make you feel happy and safe.
> 
> I believe in you and I wish you all the best.
> 
> I can't believe I'm finally posting again after having about 20 half written fics sitting abandoned in my writing folder lmao. It feels good to write again but pls go easy on me, I'm feeling rusty aha.
> 
> I've loved Grimsley a lot since my days playing B&W, seeing him reappear in SuMo was a bittersweet experience to say the least.
> 
> Probably worth mentioning that a lot of Grimsley's characterisation is gonna be based off my own personal headcanons of him, hope you enjoy these.


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